You Gotta Keep Your Head Up (When I'm Gone)
by Becommissar
Summary: Beca Mitchell stumbles into rehearsal 15 minutes late. Excuses and a cold later, the Bellas finally find out why. Based in PP1, so BECHLOE. Oneshot. ***ANGST WARNING***


Fifteen minutes late, Beca scurried into Bella's rehearsal with her hands shoved deep into her pockets and her hood up. Aubrey narrowed her eyes sharply, and halted rehearsal. "Beca. So good of you to join us. Perhaps you would like to go and fetch us some coffee, seeing as we have been _working_ whilst you lazed about. Sound acceptable?" She fitted a sickly smile to her face, surprised the younger Bella didn't fight it.

"Sure thing, Aubrey. I'm sorry I was late." She turned to leave again, dragging her limbs behind her.

Aubrey's eyes slitted further still. "And when you get back, ten laps. Go! Any longer over ten minutes you are nets another lap per minute!"

Beca quickened her pace and hurried out of the rehearsal space. Aubrey turned back to the Bellas, who were staring slightly at her. "Come on, move it, move it! When Beca gets back you get a fifteen minute break!" The Bellas moved with vigour, except Chloe, who gazed at the door for a few seconds until Aubrey's hand startled her on her shoulder. In a softer voice, she added, "Chloe, move it. As co-captain you need to set an example." She nodded. "I'm going…"

Four repeats of _Turn the Beat Around_ and Beca finally trudged through the door, bearing eleven coffees. She passed them around and sat down, yawning. Aubrey glanced at her watch. "Twenty three minutes, Beca, that's twenty three laps!" She knew it was unfair, on Wednesdays the coffee house was always overloaded and it was incredible Beca had made it out so quickly. Beca said nothing, standing up and starting to run. As she did, Aubrey signalled for a break for everyone.

Chloe took the time to grab her drink and take a deep sip. Beca always remembered Chloe's order. Mocha with extra sugar and 50:50 milk to cream. She smiled, watching Amy teach Jessica patty-cake. Apparently Amy was the best person at patty cake in Tasmania with both arms. Beca was still lapping, a pale pallor overtaking her face as sweat poured down her forehead. She was still wearing the hoodie with the hood up and had little gloves on. If she was so hot, shouldn't she take off the hoodie?

Aubrey was critiquing the group on their movement and coordination – or lack thereof. As Chloe listened, she watched Beca out of the corner of her eye. Something was off about her, but she had no idea what. "Chloe!" A sharp snap of Aubrey's voice combined with violent clicking in her face brought her back to the real world. "Sorry Bree, continue."

"You sound so bad today, what's up with you Chlo? Are your nodes playing up again?" Aubrey's voice was sharper than ever, softening slightly as she came to a conclusion that in retrospect seemed obvious.

"You know I can't sing as well as I thought I could, in light of certain events." Chloe couldn't look Aubrey in the eye. "I'm sorry. I don't think I can do this solo. I can try, but I can't promise it will be perfect."

"That's okay, Chlo. I know it's tough. But you have to get it perfect, or you give away the solo. Simple as."

By this point, Beca had finished all twenty three laps, and all but crawled over to the Bellas. "Sorry- took me so long-," she wheezed, "tried- my best…"

Aubrey's gaze fell onto Beca and the usual bitchiness Chloe now associated with Aubrey dealing with the alt-girl settled onto her face, contorting what was normally a beautiful face into a mask of dislike.

"Took you long enough. Back to start positions!" Chloe glanced at Beca, who shrugged indifferently, hiking the hoodie up higher as she tried to control her breathing. The harmony was perfect, but it lacked _something_. Aubrey spotted instantly the issue. "Stop." The Bella's instantly halted at the steely tone of the leader's voice, and as Beca once said, "When that voice comes in, shit go'n down".

"Beca Mitchell, not only were you late in this morning, you also are not singing or sticking in time with the rest of us. Therefore, I want you to sing on your own in front of us. Also, that hoodie has to go."

Beca stared defensively back at Aubrey. "I'll sing, but I'm keeping the hoodie. Cool?"

"No, you misinterpret. The hoodie will come off."

Beca completely ignored Aubrey, and opened her mouth to sing the first few chords of the song. What came out was certainly not _I Saw the Sign_. She instantly closed her mouth again, foot scuffing the ground. "I, I just got a really bad cold, is all. I didn't want to ruin the girls' singing, so I just mouthed it. I'm sorry. I'll come back next week when this will all be gone."

Aubrey looked as though she had swallowed a toad. "Yes, definitely. Don't come back until you don't sound like a dying rabbit."

"Whoa," Chloe butted in, "that's rude Bree. Don't worry Becs," she added, flashing a smile to her. "Don't feel stressed to come in immediately. Come back in when you can."

Beca nodded, leaving quickly. Aubrey had completely forgotten about the hoodie.

* * *

A week later, Beca turned up to Bella practice half an hour late. "Hey, I'm really sorry Aubrey, I'll go get coffee right now," Beca said, waiting for Aubrey to fire off some sort of volley of complaints and exclamations. Instead, she got laps. Lots of laps. "Go. When you get back, twenty laps plus three for each time we go through the set without you. Oh, and five for the Bella practises you missed. Quick, chop chop." Aubrey's eyes glinted as she turned back to the Bellas. Once Beca was out of earshot, she added, "Okay, for each time we go through the set, you get a ten minute break."

"Yeah, no Aubrey, that's not fair," piped up Fat Amy. "I mean, Beca has to run all that way, and you've been mean to her ever since she butchered _I Saw the Sign_. If I was her, I'd hate all you twig bitches for going through it longer. Count me out."

"Fine, Fat Amy. You can run laps until Beca gets back. Anyone else?"

"Bree-," Chloe started, "I don't really think it's fair either. Can't you just go a bit easier on her, she's not been well. You're being gentler with me and my-,"

"Nodes," the group echoed quietly.

"Fine," Aubrey conceded, thinking for a second, "five minute break before we start doing the set. Any objections?" When none were voiced, she smiled. "We're doing well. Go have fun." Aubrey relaxed a bit and took the set run through slower than usual, Chloe smiling at Aubrey's attempt to disguise it as a 'thorough run-down before we perform'.

When Beca trudged in, Aubrey's guard went back up. "Right, Bellas, go get a cuppa. Beca, that's twenty five plus, two rehearsals wasn't it? Yep, so that's six, so it's thirty one. Knees up and I want you to count the laps aloud."

Beca groaned, going off to begin. "One!" Her voice sounded off still, but if she had turned up, she must be feeling better.

By ten, Beca's voice was faltering again. Fifteen, she barely sounded human. It took Chloe until seventeen to force herself to face Aubrey's wrath and break off from the practise. She joined Beca, blanking the group. When she got to the point where Beca was calling the numbers, she exclaimed them too, jogging alongside her friend who was struggling now to even do the running. Twenty nine, she nearly collapsed. On thirty, at the top of the stairs, she really did.

Chloe caught her tumbling to the floor. "Becs?" Beca looked up at her azed, before quickly flashing her a brief smile. "Sorry," she gasped. "I'm – hella out of shape- better- finish this shit," And she started jogging down the stairs again, Chloe not far behind. On lap thirty one, Chloe caved and called, "Becs, something's up. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Chlo. I'm fine now."

"Are you sure?" She put her extra questioning expression on, pulling Beca closer to her by her shoulders.

"I'm fine, Chloe. Just quit it all right, I'm fine!" Beca said harshly, stepping back into line. Inconveniently, Aubrey's eyes settled on Beca.

"Take off the hoodie, Beca." She scowled at the alt-girl that was getting so far under her skin. "And get rid of those ear monstrosities."

"Aubrey, I want to keep the hoodie on." A flash of something in her eyes made Chloe's alarm bells quietly whine in the backs of her ears, but she put it down to her inexplicable protectiveness towards the alt-girl.

"Beca Mitchell, I have had my fill of you. Either you take that hoodie off or at least take the hood off, or you walk out of that door and never come back. Do I make myself clear?"

"You really want me to take off this hoodie don't you? Fine." She flipped back the hood to reveal a perfectly bald head. She bit her lip and trembled, but maintained her eye contact with Aubrey. "You happy now, Aubrey?"

Chloe gasped. All of Beca's long brown hair was gone, replaced with a curved bald scalp. Aubrey refused to back down.

"Why did you shave your entire head Beca? Have you gone insane?" She completely ignored Chloe's desperate scrabbling at her arm as Beca pulled her sweatshirt off in entirety. She was wearing her normal flannel shirt underneath it, rolled up to reveal a strange, purple piece of plastic sticking into her skin with two long tubes coming out of it. "Can't you guess?" Beca deadpanned, her eyes welling up. She addressed the rest of the group. Voice trembling, she began to explain. "For those of you who aren't studying medicine, this is called a PICC line. It's a type of IV that goes up to rest next to my heart. I- I got it about two months ago. I… I have cancer."

A strange kind of hush fell over the group, as Chloe slowly walked over to Beca, gently embracing her and encouraging her to continue talking. She pulled back, resting one hand reassuringly on the DJ's shoulder.

"I, well, the doctors say I caught it late, but that with chemo and- and surgery, there is a good chance that- I will be okay. But I'm two cycles of chemo in, and it's not looking good. I, I think- I think I need some air. Do you mind, Aubrey?"

Aubrey looked horrified. "Oh, my god…" She forced herself to move towards the girl and hug her strongly, almost crushing her in a hug. She whispered in her ear, "Take as long as you need. Take Chlo with you. I'm so sorry."

Beca nodded, extricating herself from the hug and grabbing Chloe's hand practically fled the auditorium. Aubrey turned around, regaining her composure. "Practice is cancelled. I don't think we will be able to focus with this in mind. Go home, relax and come back next rehearsal prepared. I want to see pitch perfection, you understand?"

* * *

Chloe took Beca to one of her favourite places, not far from campus. It was a small waterfall in a valley, relatively unknown. Chloe sat down and motioned Beca do the same. Gently taking Beca's shoulders, she massaged the knots away and felt Beca slowly relax. Eventually, Beca put her head in Chloe's lap, staring at the sky, feeling one knot that couldn't be cleared by Chloe's magical hands. It could only really be cleared by something she didn't want to do. "Becs," Chloe said softly, tracing random lines on Beca's head, "cry. It's okay, you can cry here."

Beca froze. Allowing herself to become undone like that in front of another person hadn't happened since… well, since her mother died. But this wasn't any old person. This was Chloe Beale, the compassionate soon-to-be doctor who knew Beca better than she was willing to admit. She knew the brunette inside and out, and it was this knowledge that drew the first heart-wrenching sob from deep within her.

That was how they stayed for god knows how long. To Beca, it seemed seconds, but agonisingly long ones, pulling at her like a rushing tide, draining her as each went by. To Chloe, it seemed an eternity, watching her best friend breaking into a scared and lost little girl, tears streaming down her face. Watching every detail of the DJ's face crumbling, wanting to wipe the tears from her face and tell her it would be okay, but she couldn't. She couldn't look her best friend in the eye and lie to her. Tell her it would be easy. Tell her she would be fine.

When Beca's voice was hoarse from screaming tears, she buried herself into Chloe's embrace. Chloe felt the need to say something bubbling up inside her, but she suppressed it. Now was the time for actions, not words. Soundlessly, she shifted until she had Beca lying down on the grass and herself lying beside her. She wiped the tears away from the girl's shining face and gently stroked her cheek, a tear forming in her own eye. She knew the DJ would want to talk, but she wanted her to be able to find the right words, so she let the girl think and compose herself.

"Chlo," Beca said at last. Her voice broke, cracked and hoarse. "Chlo, what am I going to do? I have cancer, Chlo. Cancer. Why me? _Why?_ Ha-haven't I been punished enough?"

Chloe could deal with anyone else in this situation easily, explaining that there was no reason for it happening and that it would be okay in time. But not Beca. Instead, she cupped Beca's face in her hands and just spoke. As a result, she had never sounded more honest and truthful.

"Beca… It's not your fault. Bad things happen to good people. I will be here for you, all the time. You're at Allen Memorial right? I work there on rotations. I'll come visit you on my break, take selfies, bring you lunch or whatever. Beca, I like you. I like you a lot. And I want you to know I will always be here for you, through thick and thin…" She looked up into Beca's grey eyes and was surprised to see understanding. It took a lot, but Beca shakily drew a breath.

"I like you a lot too Chloe. I'm just worried you don't like me in the same way I like you."

Chloe felt like she was just learning how to see Beca Mitchell. She breathed quietly, not wanting to end or ruin the moment. "Beca Mitchell," she whispered, "are you saying what I think you're saying?" She cupped Beca's face again and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Because if you are, I am totes on board with it."

"Oh my god," Beca murmured, blinking her eyes open. "Am I dreaming?"

Chloe laughed breathily. "Nope, you're not dreaming. I can prove it to you." She leaned down and pressed her lips to Beca's. She couldn't have imagined the shiver that ran through her and Beca's bodies as they kissed. She couldn't have imagined the gentle feel of Beca's lips on her own. She couldn't have imagined the scent of Beca permeating her body, overflowing and threatening to drown her in its aroma. No, this was better than any dream, or fantasy. Because it was real.

Breathing became necessary soon after. Beca broke off the kiss, staring deeply into Chloe's eyes. "Chlo…"

Chloe smiled. "I know."

* * *

Chloe hated the word "battle" when related to the word "cancer". Because those who "lost" their "battle" with cancer, it seemed like they were weak. Because cancer had "beaten" them. And Beca Mitchell was anything but weak. She had sung with them right up until the end. She soloed at the finale in a wheelchair, winning them the ICCAs with her extraordinary mixing skills. Chloe hated the funeral. It was far too posh and polite for Beca's tastes. But one thing she had been promised did happen. As she was lowered into the ground, the last mix she ever finished played.

 **When I'm gone, when I'm gone,**

 **You're gonna miss me when I'm gone,**

 **You're gonna miss me when I'm gone.**

 **But you gotta keep your head up, oh,**

 **And you can let your hair down, eh.**

 **You gotta keep your head up, oh,**

 **And you can let your hair down, eh.**

 **I know it's hard, know it's hard, (when I'm gone)**

 **To remember sometimes, (when I'm gone)**

 **But you gotta keep your head up, oh, (you're gonna miss me)**

 **And you can let your hair down, eh (you're sure gonna miss me)**

 **You're gonna miss me when I'm gone**

 **You gotta keep your head up, o-oh-oh-oh,**

 **When I'm gone,**

 **The sun will always come again.**


End file.
